It's All About the Teasing
by Choice
Summary: You know what they say: It's all about the teasing...  Puck's turning the big three-oh, and Kurt plans on making this a birthday worth remembering. - - NSFW; slight bondage and teasing; top!Kurt
1. I Can't Get No Satisfaction

**It's All About the Teasing:** _(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction_

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**This was written in response to the "Teasing" kink on my _kink_bingo_ card, and while I definitely could have posted this en masse as a one-shot, I decided to play up the kink and tease you all with bits and pieces of the story. :P I love you guys, I do, but I think the Cheerios could be onto something with their teasing. (Thankfully, I'm also all about the pleasing-I promise I won't leave y'all high and dry.)

Definitely **NSFW**. Features toppy!top!Kurt, along with heavy teasing and a bit of bondage. (There will be more warnings added on as the chapters progress, I'm sure of it.)

Well, nothing more to say other than I hope you enjoy this!

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Kurt loved waking up as the big spoon. Maybe it was how his body was curved protectively around Puck from behind, feeling for the world like the man's defender. It could have been the fact that he was pressed close enough so that when a dreaming Puck would take a deep inhale in, Kurt, stuck in that realm of barely-awake and half-asleep, would catch up so they both breathed out as one. It happened far less often than Kurt liked, but no one could say he didn't take advantage of the situation when it arose…

Among other things.

He lazily smirked into the back of Puck's neck. Kurt could feel his not-so-subtle morning glory trying to poke its way out of his pajama pants where it pressed up against the swell of Puck's amazing ass. Noah, oblivious in his sleep, smacked his lips a few times and adjusted the covers around him before burrowing back into Kurt's more than friendly embrace.

The alarm clock told Kurt it was quarter to seven, which meant he had a mere ten minutes left to "sleep." But he was already up, in more than one sense of the word, and why waste this lovely frame of time puttering around the kitchen? The coffeepot wouldn't run anywhere, and his morning skincare regime (in order to battle against the foreboding threat of wrinkles) always started at seven, sharp. So he totally had some time to kill.

Kurt took his one hand, the one that had been possessively latched onto the indent of Puck's hipbone, and ran it, palm-side down, along Puck's naked side beneath the sheets. He always loved the feel of Noah's jutting hips, the dramatic difference between his wide, firm abdomen and the beginning of his thigh. He could see it without looking: the endless span of tanned skin, unblemished except for a tiny, upraised knot of scar tissue right… _there_. Kurt traced the pad of his thumb over said scar, nestled against one of Puck's lower ribs. That had been from a foot chase a couple years ago, when some little shit junked up on cocaine pulled a Swiss Army Knife on Puck, who'd caught him from behind in a bear hug.

He felt his dick twitch within his flannel (yes, _flannel_) pants. He'd been scared as fuck at the time, sure, but now, looking back at his partner's unwavering bravery, his dedication to his job, it made him just as hard as any decent gay porno off of Skinemax.

Kurt clenched his fingers around the swell of Puck's pelvic bone, lightly digging the tips into those usually-sore muscles and massaging. Noah made a soft, content sigh in his sleep, instinctively jutting his ass back so Kurt had better access to his hip. Kurt hissed out a relaxed sigh himself and complied, and while he worked at those tense spots, he slowly ran his pant-clad leg up and down Puck's bare calf, lightly dragging his perfectly-manicured toenails along the bulging muscle. The coarse hairs tickled the tips of his toes, stimulating them into feeling almost numb with sensation.

He moved his foot higher and higher still, edging past the bulge of Puck's kneecap to trace beginning of a beautifully toned thigh. Kurt felt the potential in those relaxed muscles, the taut skin containing barely hidden secrets of sinewy muscles and staggering leg strength built up from years as an active cop. Kurt pressed another kiss to the bare skin of Noah's neck, letting his leg come to a rest and curl around that thigh, pulling it just the tiniest fraction backwards.

He groaned at the new, _better _angle, grinding his cock up against the crack of that perfect ass through just two layers of clothing (which were still too much, in Kurt's honest opinion). His kneading hand slowed until just his fingertips were tickling up and down that jutting hipbone, and slowly let his hand creep around to rest against sleep-warmed six packs. They jumped at his feathery touch, muscle roiling beneath smooth, slightly hairy skin; Kurt absently marveled that something so powerful, so defiant in its masculinity, could be rippled and disturbed in the wake of something as insubstantial as Kurt's spidery piano fingers.

Another smirk spread across his features. Even in sleep, Noah would submit to him. He relished in such unconsciously-given power, petting those abdominals in an almost rewarding manner as he spun his hips around in figure-eights and corkscrews against Puck's tight, occasionally clenching ass. Noah was beginning to make little whimpering noises in the back of his throat, mewling whenever Kurt's hand would be just shy of his growing boner, skating around Puck's groin even as the other man lifted his hips into his palm in an bluntly obvious invitation to grab his dick. That was Puck, Kurt thought with a snort, just as subtle in sleep as he was when conscious.

One thing Kurt always hated about cuddling was the awkward angle, and how at least one-half of your appendages would inevitably fall asleep unless you found the right position. He used the leg that pulled Puck's uppermost thigh back to lift up the other one just enough for Kurt's free leg to slip beneath. He wound his leg around Puck's, until both his legs were practically splitting Noah like a wishbone. When his wandering hand finally reached its destination, Mount Puckerman at its almost full elevation, his lover groaned in his sleep, rolling so he was practically face planting his pillow.

Kurt kept still for a few moments, waiting until a soft snore rolled out of the form beneath him to readjust himself. He let his legs frame Puck's, the arches of his feet curved perfectly around Noah's kneecaps. The slightly frog-legged contorting of his body made bumping his dick, now staining the front of his pants with precome, easier and more rewarding. The strain on his hamstrings added a delicious sting to the tickling pleasure Kurt felt every time he swiveled his hips.

The blanket had fallen down a bit until Kurt's ass was the only thing holding it up, and he could feel the beginnings of goose-bumps against Noah's skin. Kurt grinned; Puck wouldn't be feeling cold-or asleep-for much longer.

He tried to move his trapped hand to no avail, succeeding in not only getting Puck's dick fully erect, but making Noah awaken with a reedy moan. "_Aa-aah…_"

"Good morning, _Officer_," Kurt whispered against the shell of a pierced ear, giving the tip an affectionately predatory nibble. "I see you're… _up_… and standing at attention." He pressed his groin into Puck's lower back with a rough, circular grind, hard enough to grind Noah into his hand in a mirror image. "Don't know what's got you so eager, though…" He continued innocently. "Is there a new episode of _Kitchen_ _Nightmares _tonight?"

"Fucker," Puck growled halfheartedly into his pillow, his fists clenching handfuls of bedsheets as he tried in vain to cant his hips up. Being a cop's significant other had its perks, and open access to the training rooms was one of them. (So were free coffees and doughnuts from the D&D down the street, who knew Puck on a first-name basis since they'd moved downtown a year ago.) Kurt's job as a professional fashionista wasn't physically demanding _at all_, and yet he was able to hold his own against a trained, well-seasoned police officer. The smugness was almost _orgasmic_.

Puck was making happy little grunts of approval as Kurt squeezed him through his boxer shorts, reaching up to grab Kurt from behind only to have both of his wrists pinned down against his back, a mimicry of handcuffing whose irony Puck might have even appreciated, had he not been whining and struggling to break free.

Kurt knew better than anyone else that Puck liked the idea of someone being able to hold control over him, to be able to pin him down and make him work for freedom. And if he didn't, the massive hard-on he was groping with his hand (which was beginning to lose circulation) turned Noah into an open book. And, knowing Puck, he'd be a muscle mag opened to a three-page spread of something scantily clad in leather, tanned, and muscled-preferably covered in body chocolate.

Noah knew when he was had, and when Kurt minutely tightened his grip on Puck's wrists, just enough pressure to twinge, he put on an act of reluctantly conceding-

Only to have Kurt let him go and slide off of him. The morning alarm went off a moment later, and Puck yelped and toppled off the bed in indignant shock. He opened his eyes and shot a glare up at Kurt, who was smiling all too pleasantly down at him-the bastard. Kurt shut off the alarm with a low chuckle, turning and slipping out of the bedroom without another word.

"What the fuck?" Puck shouted, scrambling up in the nest of blankets tangled around him. "What kind of wake-up call was _that?_"

When he got no answer, he angrily kicked his way out of the bedsheets and stomped into the kitchenette where Kurt was standing, hand on one hip as he watched the timer-set coffee finishing percolating. The other man was oblivious-_too _oblivious to Puck's presence, and he found himself feeling a confused muddle of arousal, irritation, and something that might have been a reluctant fondness.

He used his awesome sleuthing-cop skills to silently skulk his way over to Kurt's turned profile. Noah smirked in silent triumph, because Kurt hadn't noticed a _thing_-

And then his outstretched hand was grabbed with ninja-like precision, and Kurt flipped Noah around to manhandle him against the counter. Pressed front-to-front, his hands bound behind him once more, Puck stared defiantly into Kurt's gleaming, amused eyes. "…I hate it when you do that."

Kurt threw his head back and laughed, somehow high and melodious at the crack of dawn. Noah wanted to kick him, because he was tired, grumpy, _and _horny, a losing combination, for sure.

But then Kurt looked back to him, a wicked smirk curling at his lips. His one eyebrow was raised in that I'm-_the-_Sex way Noah envied him for most of the time, but right now, he felt himself shivering in anticipation. "Oh do you now? See, I thought I was giving my birthday boy a treat, shoving you around like this." Kurt pouted in faux sorrow-hell, his eyes even shone with the hint of tears, an actor through and through. "Don't you like it?"

Noah growled like a caged panther, ready to force his way out of Kurt's slackened grip, but _of course_ Kurt had another trick up his sleeve. Just as he had one hand free, Kurt gripped hard on his other wrist, and something metallic-a _cuff_-was slapped around it. The handcuff clicking locked was the only sound, other than the coffee burbling as it finished its cycle, in the silent kitchen.

He gaped at Kurt, dizzy with surprise. The other man had a triumphant air about him Puck was sure he could _smell_, and he watched as Kurt stepped away from him, jaw still slack while Kurt poured himself a steaming cup of coffee.

"Mm," Kurt hummed into his drink, taking a nice, long sip before setting it down onto the counter. He put his hand on his hip once more, assessing the man before him with a sly grin. "Have I got a present for _you_." He purred, his eyes going half-lidded and smoldering as Kurt looked Puck up and down like a choice piece of meat in the butcher-shop. "But first… I need a shower. Can't run off-schedule just because someone's turning the big three-oh," He said cheerfully. As he walked past his frozen boyfriend, Kurt placed the barely-touched cup of coffee-black, like Puck took it-beside his only free hand, letting his fingers caress the limp palm as he breezed by. "Have some coffee, hun," He said sweetly. "You look like you had a long night, and you're going to need the caffeine."

He glared at the doorway even after Kurt's retreating ass disappeared from his view, waiting for the man to pop back in and shout "Surprise!" until he heard the shower turn on. He perked up, listening for Kurt's footfalls-he was just pulling his leg, right?-only to collapse against the counter with a disbelieving groan when, a few moments later, Kurt's voice belting out "_I can't get no satisfaction_" could be heard throughout their spacious luxury apartment.

Mother_fucker._


	2. He Hates Me

**It's All About the Teasing**: _He Hates Me

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_Too tired to formulate complete thoughts, but I apologize for any grammar mistakes in this chapter. I'm anxious to see this fic to its end, and I felt obligated to update by tonight. (Or this morning, whatevs.) Anyway, there's still no smut, but don't you worry-it's coming, I pinkie-promise.

While I go pass out, please enjoy!

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Kurt popped out of the shower twenty minutes later, feeling like the king of the world on all accounts as he basked in his citrus-fresh, D&G _Light Blue_-scented glory. He whistled the chorus of _Satisfaction_ as he walked out of the bathroom, hair coiffed to perfection and dressed head to toe in the latest stroke of fashion brilliance. The only thing he was missing was a pair of socks, but he had to make a stop at the bedroom anyway.

He grinned like a scheming child as he slid a wrapped box out from beneath the bed, slipping into his socks before padding out in the silent apartment. Kurt could taste the aggravation in the air; he rolled it around on his tongue and savored it like a fine, dry wine.

Puck was still where Kurt had left him, a scowl heavy on his face. He shot Kurt a fierce, wordless glare as Kurt, smiling from ear to ear, approached him like one would a wild animal.

"Hey baby," Kurt purred. "You miss me?" Noah lunged at him, snarling and furious. Kurt merely sidestepped his grabbing hand, clucking his tongue in playful disapproval. "Now, that's no way to behave, Noah. Especially since I was planning on giving you your birthday present early."

Puck remained stubbornly silent as Kurt dramatically whipped the wrapped package out from behind his back. He waggled it enticingly in front of the man's face, letting the item rattle around inside its box. "So would you like to reconsider your attitude, or would you rather wait until tonight to open your present? I personally don't care what you choose, but I need to leave for work in-" he glanced down at his wrist watch. "Five minutes, if I want to beat traffic. So what do you say, baby? You want to be a good boy?"

When Noah refused to take the bait, Kurt heaved a heavy, put-upon sigh. "Alright then. I'm going to head into work. But just in case you get curious…" He placed the present within reaching distance, not even chancing a goodbye kiss; he wouldn't put it past Puck to bite his lips off in vengeance.

"I'll see you at three, babe!" Kurt called, once he had his car keys and everything he needed for another day at the office. "I love you!"

He didn't bother waiting for the reply that would never come-Noah was always pouty whenever Kurt pulled shit like this, so he didn't hold anything against the other man. Besides, he would more than likely come home to a porno-worthy fully naked Puck, hard and whining as he fucked himself on his present.

Kurt knew how to take care of his man, knew when to give Noah a trick and when to relent and hand him a treat, and Puck (for all his angry snarling and swearing on all he held near and dear to him that he'd get his revenge) _loved_ the tough love treatment. Who was he to deny Noah what he wanted, even if he got some grief in the process?

Kurt already had tough skin from his time in high school and becoming a CEO of a relatively well-known European fashion company's US headquarters, dealing with harsh criticism, conniving bitches and tycoons hell-bent on money, gave him a pretty good set of armor. He was easily as much of a badass as Officer Noah Puckerman was: a tall, tan and toned member of NYPD's finest, with a glare that was almost incinerating in its prime. Puck dealt with crack heads and convicts on a regular basis, but he was a mere thorn in Kurt's side whenever he was on one of his domineering kicks.

"_They're out to get you, better leave while you can-_" Kurt slipped on a pair of designer sunglasses, a smile tugging at his face as he stepped out onto the stoop. His shoes clicked against pavement as he strode down the stairs, a bounce in his step and a song on his lips. "_Don't wanna be a boy, you wanna be a man…_"

Noah, on the other hand…

Noah was beside himself, a human furnace of anger. Here he was, on his _first day off_ in _months_-on his _birthday_, for fuck's sake, cuffed to the kitchen sink! He gave his wrist a few furious tugs, but he already knew it was in vain. Unless he felt like explaining to their landlord why the sink pipes had been forcefully yanked out of the wall, he was going to be stuck for a while.

He growled and shouted in wordless rage, stomping and glaring at the appliances like it was their fault he was in this mess. During one fit, he picked up the still-full cup of coffee and chucked it at the fridge. The loud _clink_ of porcelain pieces exploding in all directions, the fireworks of lukewarm coffee did nothing to quell his ire. In fact, it only ticked him off even more, because he knew _he'd_ be the one who would get to clean that mess up whenever Kurt got home and (hopefully) freed him.

Twenty minutes passed before his legs began to ache from standing idle for so long. He grumbled as he sank to the floor, his cuffs jangling as they followed his movements. He had to hold his wrist at an awkward angle as he sat cross-legged on the tiles, and his free hand propped his chin up while he pouted at nothing in particular.

After a while, he wasn't as angry as he was bored. He had planned to sleep in today, to indulge in his video gaming addiction that hadn't faded in the years since he played Mario Kart with Finn in high school. (He even had a secret Yoshi shrine from his twenties that he could only hope Kurt didn't know about, buried in the back of the closet-but knowing how nosy the other man was, the dick had probably found it.)

But no, here he was, a victim of his evil boyfriend's latest sadistic streak. If he were the weepy type, he'd cry at the injustice of it all. He'd even sang a ridiculously impassioned rendition of Puddle of Mudd during the first hour, desperately angry and listless enough to take a page out of glee's book and sing about his feelings. By the middle of the second verse, he felt more humiliated than empowered, especially when one of the neighbors-the old hag next door with the yappy terrier-began hitting at the floor to give him a kind "Shut the _fuck _up, you miserable prick!" He shut up in the middle of soulfully howling the namesake verse to save himself further embarrassment.

He was stuck humming random ditties and mocking stupid fucking Kurt (and maybe getting half-hard at sporadic intervals whenever the handcuffs rattled), and he was just so goddamn _bored_. His eyes kept shooting to the cheerfully colored present perched on the counter, eyeing the sparkly purple bow only to look away again in sheepish disgust.

But his pride was no match for his curiosity, and having nothing else to do didn't help matters. He caved in under five minutes, snatching the present from the counter and giving the kitchenette a paranoid sweep for the hidden video cameras Kurt had to have rigged their pad with. When he didn't catch the gleam of a lens, he reluctantly looked down at the present. The bow glittered mockingly at him, and Kurt knew he hated glittery things, so he tore it off with a rumbling growl. The cheerfully pinstriped wrapping paper found its quickly shredded, papery death at Puck's one vindictive hand.

He ignored the paper cut along the side of his thumb in favor of trying to single-handedly open the cardboard box. Of course, it was securely taped shut, in _layers_-he could practically see Kurt laughing in diabolical glee as he slapped each and every merciless tab of Scotch tape onto the fucking thing. He held the box with his legs and reached up with his free hand to rummage in the utensil drawer above his left shoulder. He was waiting for the ideal moment of success, to utter a triumphant cry when his hand found the wooden handle of one of the steak knives.

He frowned after a long moment, sighing and getting up to actually _look_. He saw red when all to be found was a Post-It in the steak knives' place.

_Come __on__. Don't pout-you can try harder than that. You know, monkeys have to earn their bananas, too. _

He crumpled the note in his fist and chucked it in the sink, flipping on the garbage disposal and watching with wicked satisfaction as the note was shredded and consumed with the soothing noise of a cat being mangled by a lawnmower.

That delicious feeling (sadly) faded and he sighed to himself, resorting to a fucking _butter knife_ as his weapon of choice_. _It was like using banana peels in Mario Kart when the jerk behind you had red turtle shell sat back down, wrapping his legs around the square box. He held the knife as if he were cutting into the damn birthday pancakes he was looking forward to for breakfast, sawing away at those stubborn bits of tape. At this rate, he would be too busy cursing Kurt in-between blowing cardboard sawdust all over Kurt's pristine, Mr. Clean-degree shiny linoleum floor to actually have the time to be bored.

At least for the next hour or so.

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It took Noah almost as long as he'd imagined to cut away all of the overlapped Scotch tape; some cardboard filings remained clinging to the fine sheen of sweat dotting his forehead. He leaned back against the blissfully cool cabinets with a proud sigh. Who knew opening presents could be so taxing?

He was really hoping that this wouldn't be another little mind-fucking game of Kurt's, that the box wasn't filled with something like rocks-or worse, another box-because he'd had all the dirty tricks he could handle before noon. Anymore, and his head would no doubt explode into a slushie of gooey brain matter. Hell, he wouldn't be above crying.

Puck sighed, dizzy with relief when he saw piles of dove-white, faintly shimmering tissue paper concealing his bana-his _prize_. A blank envelope was perched on top of the mountain of paper, but Puck just tossed it to the side in favor of getting to his present.

Balancing it on his knees, Puck shoved his hand into the box, rummaging around and grabbing onto the first thing he found. He let his fingers trace over something smooth and sort of plastic, a bit rounded and…

He frowned in slight disappointment when he realized (before even taking it out of the box) that Kurt had gotten him a dildo. _Another_ dildo. Puck wasn't averse to them or anything, but… well, they already had enough to open up their own sex shop. That, and Kurt usually liked to use his _own_ dick to fuck Puck with whenever possible. Their dildos were mostly used for what Kurt fondly called the "Double-Stuffed Puck."

He set the toy-eight inches of deep violet (what Kurt deemed "his color") with a suction-cup base-aside and picked up the envelope with considerably less enthusiasm than before. He felt betrayed, and more than a little let down by Kurt.

_Happy Birthday, babe! I can almost see that delicious pout on your face-don't you know you're supposed to open the card __before__ the present?_

_Anyway. Before you throw a(nother) serious bitch fit over what you got, that isn't your real present… not exactly. The real thing will come soon enough, but not before you __earn__ it._

Puck groaned in frustration, and his handcuffs jangled their laughter, mocking him in their own way. Like he needed more torment. Wasn't this enough for Kurt? His boyfriend had been known to be exceedingly cruel, but this had to top the leather whip episode. (A memory Puck wasn't sure if he was fond or frightened of.)

He was tempted to shred the paper up with his teeth, but Puck figured it'd be smarter to read the entire thing before getting violent.

_Stop your stupid emoting. Believe me, this'll be a piece of cake. All you have to do is get yourself nice and open for me like a good boy, so I can shove my dick into your ass right after I come home. Once I've fucked you nice and hard (I promise this year's birthday sex will have you seeing __stars__), you can take me for a ride with your real birthday present. Decipher that as you will._

_See you when I get home. Make sure you're… __prepared._

_Love, Kurt_

Puck still wasn't sure how he felt about the newest development in his suck-fest of a thirtieth birthday, but while Kurt could be a total bitch sometimes, a liar he was never. Noah looked down at the packets of lube that had fallen out of the envelope before glancing up at the stovetop clock, huffing to himself when he saw it was only going on ten thirty. Well, he still had a good few hours to decide his plan of action.

And maybe he could figure out how to get to the fucking snack cabinet because he was so goddamn starving it wasn't even funny. The only ones laughing were God and Kurt-honestly, sometimes Puck couldn't be sure that they were two different beings, or just one fiercely-dressed, sadistically inclined entity set on making his life a living hell.

Twenty minutes-and a few nicks and bruises-later, Puck sat with his legs sprawled out on the floor, munching on one of a fucking bunch of bananas (the only things he could reach without dislocating his cuffed arm) with a scowl on his face. Puck supposed he should be glad that Kurt's obsessive love for themes didn't extend to his not-present. If he'd gotten a banana-shaped dildo, he wasn't sure if he'd eat these Chiquita's, even if his stomach had begun to devour itself in its hunger.

He glared at the fridge, scowl deepening when he noticed a painstakingly neat caricature of a mohawked monkey pinned to the door. A hilariously large banana hovered where its dick might have been.

Puck put his routine target practice to good use and hurled pieces of his banana peels at the stupidly grinning ape, imagining with wicked joy that he was pelting Kurt's beloved Marc Jacobs fall line with pee balloons instead.


	3. To Be Defeated

**It's All About the Teasing**: _To Be Defeated_

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I really need to learn how to _not_ abuse italics so much. It's a pain in the ass when I post on LiveJournal.  
Behold, the third chapter (of five?) of Teasing!fic! I hope you like sadistic!top!Kurt, because this chapter's got him in spades.

_**ALSO.**_ Humongous (delayed) thanks to July (EmmaFrost13) for helping me out with this story; I love you babe! (:

Enjoy!

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Let it be said that while Kurt Hummel had the best intentions at heart, he couldn't say he was the epitome of angelic. His mind's voice, which sounded suspiciously like the (female) love of his life, whom he fiercely missed, agreed with a fervent "Kitty got claws!"

(God, March couldn't come soon enough. Kurt couldn't wait to see 'Cedes and swap man-ipulation tips over acetone and mud masks.)

When Kurt started the third grade, Burt had enrolled him in beginner's karate classes, the finest their bodunk town had to offer. "At least you'll have the benefit of surprise if it comes down to it… No offense Kurt, but you're no scarier 'n a waterlogged kitten." Kurt hadn't gotten much further than a white-belt, but he'd grasped the basics. One of the most important tactics he'd learned-one he still put to good use today-was how to manipulate your opponents, the art of controlling the one "in control."

It was all a matter of smoke and mirrors, the perfect exercise in acting: trick them into thinking _you're_ the vulnerable one while you're steps ahead in this dance of yours. Plan the defense to their offense, and follow it up with the retaliation attack that would be the landmine to catch them unawares.

Now, Kurt didn't go around using what Puck dubbed his "mad ninja skeelz" to roundhouse-punch a particularly grating intern at work. No, Kurt was cunning and sly by nature. Even at the tender, innocent age of nine, he'd used his superior, developmentally advanced (and painfully unrecognized) kid-prodigy brain to modify and refurbish what he'd learned from Master Daisuke. (Better known as Mr. Roger, one of the janitorial staff at McKinley High: mopping up after delinquents by day, teaching defenseless young weenies how to judo-chop and kick ass from three to five pm on weekends.)

Kurt had used these same "skeelz" in the _second _Diva-Off in their high school glee club, playing along with Rachel's holier-than-thou complex and lulling her into a false state of security, waiting until the last moment to deliver the fatal blow in the form of a perfectly-executed high F that won him a coveted GaGa solo. And whenever his shiny new CEO position came under attack, he'd play possum before coming back to life with a ruthless, Sylvester-inspired revenge-and some choice bits of blackmail on the underlings constantly circling his cushy salary. (Which Noah may or may not have slipped him.)

Kurt played nice… when it was convenient for him. In retrospect, Puck really should have seen this coming. And yet, when Kurt walked through the door at a quarter to twelve, humming under his breath as he twirled a set of shiny car keys on his index finger, Puck was definitely _not_ prepared. He was still in his boxers, eating bananas like the primate he was.

He sat wide-eyed and frozen on the floor, his gaping mouth offering a lovely display of half-chewed banana mush. Kurt took one look at him and clucked his tongue in dismay, his head shaking back and forth in an endless pendulum of disappointment.

Puck quickly swallowed his mouthful, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. "Kurt?" Despite practically boiling over with anger just a little while before, Puck found himself eagerly getting to his feet, fighting against his restraints to subconsciously lean in Kurt's direction. He felt like a poor, defenseless planet, helpless in the face of Kurt's irresistible pull. "What're you doing home?"

"I thought I told you to be ready," Kurt said, ignoring Puck in favor of hanging his sleek blazer over the back of a barstool. He inwardly smirked; Puck _hated_ being ignored.

Sure enough, the other man huffed in instant irritation. "Yeah, and _I_ thought you meant "before I get home." Why're you here, goddammit?"

Kurt traced his finger over the smooth crystal face of his gorgeous vintage Rolex. "I left work early for your birthday," He murmured, glancing up at Puck with an innocent moue of confusion. "Didn't I tell you?"

Noah was unimpressed and-Kurt could tell-definitely not falling for his act. Ah well. Kurt wasn't the one tied to the sink now, was he? Kurt let his expression melt into a wicked leer, his fingers _tap tap tap_ping as if he were playing a C-minor chord on a baby grand instead of hitting the counter. "Ah well, not my fault. Judging by the look of the place-" Here, he paused to shoot the bits of cardboard and wrapping paper, waterlogged in brown puddles of drying coffee on the previously spotless kitchen floor, an unimpressed frown. "-you've already opened your present. Am I correct?"

Noah simply went on glaring daggers at him, which got on Kurt's nerves. He didn't take attitude from his man, even if his man had had a tough day (unless it was because of a tough case at work-then he got snuggles and blowjobs). His face was a blank, stony mask, a scary sight that didn't make Puck's knees buckle as Kurt took two fluid steps forward and, in the blink of an eye, shoved them up against the counter. The confining position was almost exactly the same as what had gotten Puck caught up in Kurt's spider-web in the first place. He felt pride welling within him when Puck didn't yelp in surprise but _pushed back_-but at the same time, the defiant act pissed him off. Such behavior was admirable, but not when Puck was clearly under Kurt's control.

(Then again, it was the constant tug-o-war of dominance and submission-even when futile-that Kurt loved about their relationship.)

He snarled as he yanked Noah's only free hand in between their bodies, clenching his fingers around the wrist so Puck's hand was a dead weight, unable to strike out or do much of anything. With his other hand, Kurt yanked Puck's jaw up with enough force to make the other man's teeth clack together. He resolutely ignored that cuffed hand, whose nails bit into his hip with annoying yet arousing sparks of pain. "_I asked you a question_," He hissed, tightening his grip warningly when Puck tried using his body to barrel out of Kurt's grasp. "Did you or did you not open the fucking box?"

The humiliation at being so successfully subdued shone in those hazel eyes, and it made Puck tighten his lips into a flatline. Kurt felt a wave of protectiveness, as well as the tiniest bit of relief. It wasn't a matter of _winning_; finding himself as the dominant figure in this scenario didn't make him the king. Even as he fought Puck for control, he wasn't taking the man's free will; he was dominating, not _domineering_ and if Puck said "Stop," Kurt would back off and hand over the handcuff keys in an instant.

As it was, Puck allowed himself to be cowed and relaxed as the strength of Kurt's grip, now unchallenged, loosened. "I did," he muttered, looking down and off to the side before resolutely meeting Kurt's eyes. Kurt inwardly grinned; you could leash and drug the fuck out of a wild lion all you wanted, but it would still be a wild lion, proud mane and all.

"And because of your own incompetence-honestly, don't you interrogate people for a living?-you didn't prepare yourself like I had explicitly told you to." Puck looked like he was about to argue Kurt on that point, but he decided otherwise when his chin was squeezed twice, an obvious warning. "Is that true?"

"…Yes."

"Noah, let me ask you something," Kurt murmured, trailing the tips of his fingers along the side of Puck's face, tickled by the faint rasps of stubble that peppered his cheek. "If you were in my position… better yet, if a _subordinate_-" he purred, "-officer failed to comply with your command… What would _you _do?"

Puck swallowed on an impulse, blinking dazedly. "Um… I-" he broke off into a moan when Kurt leaned forward to brush the tip of his tongue against the shell of Puck's ear. "I would… let them off with a serious warning?" The inflection was less nerves and more _What you gonna do now, tough guy?_

"Oh really?" Kurt smirked, the only warning he gave before he spun Puck around, using the wrist he'd held captive as leverage. "Because I think I like my idea better. I hope you'll be… _inclined_…" he gave Puck's hard dick, which was popping out of the opening of his boxers, a rough, teasing squeeze. "…to agree once I'm done with you."

His own near-painful erection was valiantly trying to force its way through his trousers, and he made a low, guttural noise in the back of his throat as he ground against the hidden crack of Puck's ass. Noah keened and did his best to lean back against Kurt, who shuddered in response. He _loved_ it when Officer Puckerman faded away into this-his slutty, desperate little bitch.

He loved the rush of excitement, the feeling of accomplishment when Puck finally let go, when he allowed is emotions to separate themselves from the composed Puck that his friends and family were used to. Puck had bashfully admitted to him, one rainy day they'd spent in bed, that while he'd had his fair share of strong, barrier-breaking lovers like Kurt, none had been as efficient-as _reverent_ as Kurt was in the act of breaking down Puck's many walls. "And I've never actually wanted someone to do that to me, you know?" Puck had muttered, lips tickling where they brushed against Kurt's chest. "But you… you're different."

Noah's eyes had glowed a soft, unusually innocent sage in the dim grey afternoon light, and the arrogant, confident police persona seemed light-years away. Seeing him so sincerely lost and more than a bit afraid had struck a nerve inside of Kurt. He had always been a good lover, but it was from that moment on that he made it one of his missions in life to protect Noah at his most exposed, and to love him no less for what the man deemed to be his "weaker" attributes. (Another one of Kurt's very important missions was to give Puck enough blowjobs so he'd nearly jizz in his pants whenever Kurt got soft-serve vanilla fro-yo.)

Kurt broke the mood for a moment, just to encourage the other man into letting go. "Fucking love it when you're all hot and begging for me, hun." It worked: Puck let out a broken, whining cry in the back of his throat at those words, twisting jerkily in Kurt's vice-like hold to find his lips. Kurt gave him one deep lingering kiss before shoving Puck back, pressing the side of the man's face into the cold marble counter.

"You gonna be my good little bitch and listen to me? You know I'll make you feel _so good…_" Puck did his best to nod his agreement in such a compromising position. Kurt chuckled, trailing his hand down Noah's skull to squeeze the back of his neck with enough force to make the man jerk beneath him. "I want you to stay where you are and if you move a _muscle_ I won't hesitate to punish you. I think I'm being pretty lenient as it is, don't you?"

He didn't bother waiting for a response as he let go, stepping back to admire the picture Puck made. And what a gorgeous masterpiece of a picture it was. His legs were spread in a wide, wanton 'v', his bound hand gripping the sink pipes so tight Noah's knuckles were noticeably pale. His free hand was…

"Hey!" Kurt reached forward to catch Puck's sneaky hand before it could reach its destination. "I don't remember giving you permission to touch yourself, Noah," He said in a carefully even tone, even as his stomach flipped deliciously. Good thing he was always prepared for Puck's playful boundary-pushing.

God, how he _loved _it when Puck toyed with him like this. He unsuccessfully fought back a smile at the half-grin Noah thought he was hiding from Kurt in the counter. He distracted Puck with a firm, reprimanding bite to the swell of one broad shoulder, lapping at areas where blood began to appear with a mercilessly pointed, firm tongue. The constant stream of loud moans coming from Noah did well to distract the man as Kurt reached up to undo his tie-one that was from a slightly aged collection (which he only changed into in the safety of the car) just for this occasion.

He casually trailed one hand down Puck's gorgeously defined bicep, gently tugging it outwards as he tickled and rubbed at the beginnings of goose-bumps. "_No one wants to be defeated,_" He sang softly against the wound he'd made as he reached Puck's large, callused hand. He laced their fingers together and pulled that arm back towards him. Kurt grinned his giddy triumph when the other man froze beneath him, realizing what Kurt was up to-

-a moment too late. The seductive, cool curl of silk against Puck's wrist had him shivering and moaning, and he watched Kurt through his lashes as his only free hand was moved in front of him (the tie teasingly brushing against the leaking head of his dick) and bound to one of the metal circles of his cuffs. Kurt bit his lip, because holy _shit_, each and every time he thought Puck couldn't possibly get any hotter, he went out and did things like _this_. Kurt didn't like being proven wrong, but he begrudgingly let this one go with another fierce nip to Puck's neck.

He stepped back and eyed his handiwork with tangible satisfaction. Puck wiggled his ass temptingly, and Kurt slapped it with a firm hand, making Puck choke when his hard dick rammed into the equally hard cabinet. "Bitch, I thought I told you to _keep still._"

Puck moaned a string of unintelligible apologies into his pillow of marble, doing his best to not move as Kurt whacked him on the ass-cheeks a second time. He made a strangled noise when that hand lingered, gently squeezing and massaging as it traveled up to the waistband of Puck's boxer shorts.

Kurt had to pause to absently admire the deep plum color of the cotton against that gorgeously tan back, and even in the thick haze of lust, he commended himself. The thin goldenrod accent stripes brought out the honeyed tones of Puck's skin _perfectly_.

The man in question had to be near tears, because he was still as stone as Kurt used both hands to knead Puck's hips in a tantalizing clockwise motion. "That's a good boy," he praised in a tender whisper. He let his thumbnails scratch against Puck's stomach-the muscles there twitched and quivered in arousing waves of movement-as they hooked onto the elastic waist of the underwear. "So _good _for me, aren't you?"

"Yesyes_yes_," Puck mewled, hissing when Kurt unceremoniously ripped his shorts off. His exposed ass clenched and unclenched in the cold air, and Kurt had trouble keeping a reign on his mouth as it watered at the lust-triggering sight. He knelt in front of Puck as if bowing before a holy shrine, running his hands down strong thighs peppered with dark hair as he nudged at Puck's legs.

"Spread 'em for me, babe," He whispered, leaning back and watching with dark eyes as Puck stepped out of his shorts, "accidentally" pushing his ass into Kurt's face as he did as he was told.

Kurt pulled that drool-worthy butt towards him, roughly squeezing one cheek in each hand and pushing them apart to catch a glance of that tauntingly fluttering hole. "Trying to give me a hint?"

Puck grunt-growled in the affirmative, propelling his hips backward. "_Please._"


	4. This Fever

**It's All About The Teasing**: _This Fever (Would You Be Mine?)_

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_After a long wait, here's chapter four of Teasing!fic! In addition to the lovely July, I have _heard_the_owl_ to thank for offering support and helpful critique!  
And on a side note, chapter five will end up being the last chapter, more likely than not. I hope you all enjoyed this story! (:

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Puck's desperate "_Please_" echoed around the kitchenette as Kurt drew out the silence. Puck's heavy pants made a circle of condensation on the counter that grew and shrank with his breath. Seconds ticked by-_Inhale_, shrink. _Exhale_, grow.-and every single one of Puck's muscles slowly tensed in adrenalin-laden anticipation.

"Well," Kurt finally murmured, leaning forward so his breath ghosted over the small of Puck's back. "Who am I to deny my birthday boy?"

Puck tensed, his breath catching for a solid few seconds as he waited, waited and wa-

He let out a loud howl, his entire body fighting against his bonds as Kurt dug his teeth into one tensed cheek. The pads of Kurt's thumbs brutally massaged the cleft of Puck's ass. That lewd, perfect suction from Kurt's mouth, paired with those fizzling-electric fingers made his Kurt-centric world tilt on its axis.

As his mouth ran off with his mind, he absently hoped their old fogie of a neighbor had bingo or knitting club-_some _excuse for her not to be home. They didn't need her reporting them to the landlord (again)-or worse, wetting her granny-panties listening in on them through the ceiling.

His drunken haze receded enough for him to come back to himself, panting and fighting the urge to turn around and watch as Kurt planted a few more nippy kisses around the one spot where Puck wanted him.

"Fuck-_Kurt!_" The handcuff's chains clanked against the metal pipe, and Puck could feel the stinging pinpricks of tears at the corner of his shut eyes.

Apparently his ass was like a mood ring, because Kurt backed off right before Puck was on the brink of _too much_. Noah panted as he practically felt Kurt's eyes roam along his backside, his thighs quivering in anticipation.

"God, your ass is like a Michelangelo," Kurt murmured, his voice low and breathless. Puck twitched and moaned as fingernails dug into his skin. "Marking you up is almost sacrilege."

When those hands slowly pried him open, Puck sighed with relief. _Please,_ he thought-or said, he wasn't sure anymore. Puck could hear the smirk in the other man's voice: "Good thing I'm practically guiltless." With that, Kurt nosedived into Puck's ass, his tongue invading him without a second thought.

He threw his head back with a shout, his spine arching perfectly as Kurt gave his hole a thorough, mind-blowing frenching. He choked on an inhale when the other man moved his mouth off of Puck to speak. He didn't want Kurt to _talk_, goddammit, he wanted that mouth _licking_, _sucking_- "…to stay. You got me?"

Puck could barely hear himself breathe over the sound of his heart pounding, let alone whatever Kurt had just said. Kurt tugged more insistently on his ass, making the skin burn from the pull-it felt _so_ good. He cried out again, arching back further. Kurt let go of one cheek to snatch the back of Puck's neck and _push_, until Noah's nose was squished against the marble countertop. His dick twitched at the numbing tingles that shot up and down his spine from Kurt's rough grip.

That hand was practically glued there, not moving as Kurt thankfully returned to tracing his tongue around and inside of Puck's hole. "_Fuck,_ need you inside me so bad want to feel you for _days_ need your dick_-Kurt, please…_"

Kurt's hand eased up on Puck's neck, the message of _Stay put_ apparent as he trailed a tickling path down the knobs of Puck's spine. It was a stark contrast to the bruising death grip Kurt had on his ass.

He wasn't sure where that hand went next because then Kurt did that amazing loop-de-loop thing over his hole, and god_dammit_, how could he be expected to focus on anything other than _that?_ Puck was convinced that his heart stuttered to a stop for a second, and had it not been for the painful pressure of the cabinet against his dick, he would have come right then and there.

Kurt's tongue vanished after a moment more of teasing, but before he could bemoan the loss, something else-the lube-slick head of his newest birthday dildo-pressed against his loosened, twitching hole. After the discomfort of getting it past his muscles, Puck relaxed and let Kurt do his thing, moaning as he was slowly dildo-fucked.

"You're one lazy bitch, aren't you?" Kurt asked. Puck could only make long, drawn-out groans of agreement in time with the leisurely thrust of the toy. "You love being a bottom, don't you? You were made for this," Kurt murmured reverently. "Made to be my good baby boy."

He cried out when Kurt thrust the dildo so it was in as far as it could go-not as far as Kurt's dick could go, though. Puck whimpered at the lack of stimulation to his prostate. He felt irritation bubbling beneath his skin when Kurt gave a knowing little chuckle against his hip. "Soon, baby. Soon. I didn't want you to get too…" He spun the dildo around in a circle, letting the toy drag against Puck's insides. "_Riled_ up before the _real _fun begins."

Puck wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle the "real fun." If this was just the warming up, what was coming next? He hoped against hope, as well as Kurt's stupid ruthless-lover streak, that _he _would. His dick was about to _explode_.

Kurt stood, his knees popping as he rose to full height behind Puck. Noah could feel a powerful warmth radiating from the other man as Kurt pressed his clothed chest against Puck's heaving frame. "Such a good boy, _yesss…_"

He swallowed as Kurt reached around, completely foregoing Puck's neglected dick in order to find his cuffed hands. He trailed his fingers down Noah's clammy fists, smiling against the nape of Puck's neck as he unlocked the cuff that connected Puck to the kitchen sink.

Kurt tugged Puck up by the scruff of his neck like a cat would pick up a kitten and indicated that he wanted Puck to follow.

He walked backwards so he could watch Puck as he waddled. He was clearly struggling to keep the dildo in his ass as he moved, and Kurt smirked at that prettily flushed face. Puck whimpered, equal parts horrified and aroused as he felt the dildo start to slip. He tried to slow down, but Kurt wouldn't let him, tugging insistently at his chains until he moved.

The dildo suddenly slid out of him with a loud, wet noise, bouncing and rolling on the floor as Puck froze. He knew he probably looked like a deer caught in the headlights as Kurt slowed them to a stop.

Puck's mouth formed a perfect little 'o' as he shivered, stuck in place in his embarrassment. He cursed when his eyes began water.

Kurt lessened his smirk to something more reassuring. He only clucked his tongue as he walked a circle around the statue-like Noah to pick up the dildo, carefully working it back into Puck's ass, red with scratches and bite-marks, until it was all the way to the hilt once more. He gave those cheeks a firm tap, licking his lips as Puck's muscles tensed.

"Keep doing that, and it won't fall," Kurt whispered into the shell of a red ear, letting the tip of his tongue brush against Puck's earlobe. "Just pretend it's _my_ dick in that greedy ass of yours. You _love_ tightening around me, keeping me inside you like the little cock-slut you are, don't you?"

The advice, along with those smoldering eyes that held his gaze, helped abate his mortification. They slowly proceeded to the bedroom, and Puck couldn't help but feel like he was walking his way to the electric chair. "_Dead man walking,_" his inner voice quipped.

When they got to the threshold of their bedroom, Puck sighed in exhaustion. His thighs were cramping from being clenched for so long, and he could feel sweat beginning to bead along his forehead.

Kurt silently led him into the room, which was darkened by the light-impervious curtains the man had spent way too much money on. Puck blinked as he took in the winking candles all around the room, and his nose sort of itched from the sugar-sweet, floral smells. His eyes caught a couple more wrapped boxes tucked into the bedsheets, and he rose a brow at Kurt, who simply grinned at him in response. "Um, not that I'm complaining, but…" He nodded at the presents. "We didn't come all the way here just to open presents, did we?"

"And what if we did?" Kurt asked, even as he slowly led Puck by the shoulders over to the bed. He gave the toy a playful thrust before he carefully pulled it all the way out. Puck rolled on the bed until he was comfortable, watching as Kurt took the two boxes off of the bed and carefully lined them up on the nearby nightstand. Kurt glanced down at the slick dildo, hesitating before putting it onto the carpet.

When Kurt began advancing on him, Puck nudged him away with his bound hands. "Take these off." He met that piercing, calculating stare full-on, letting Kurt assess the situation. The man finally nodded, half-smiling at the obvious relief he saw on Puck's features as he reached into his pocket.

Noah whooped with relief as the lock clicked, making quick work of the silk tie around his other wrist. He looked up, rubbing his tender skin, only to find himself face to face with a horribly overdressed Kurt. They said nothing as Kurt petted the curly tufts of Puck's full head of hair, carding it out of his face.

Kurt leaned forward and kissed Puck for what felt like a solid eternity, parting with a few teasing nibbles and a breathless chuckle. "You're so fucking sexy like this," he said as he tugged at Puck until he was sitting on his lap.

Puck moaned softly against Kurt's lips as he locked his ankles together around the other man. He ground down against Kurt, reveling in the other man's small noises of encouragement as hands gripped at Noah's waist and guided him along.

"Swear to God," Puck panted, resting their foreheads together as he jerked in Kurt's grip. "If you string me on anymore, 'm gonna punch you in your fuckin' _face._"

Kurt smiled sweetly, nuzzling their noses together as he tickled the shell of Puck's ear. "Oh, but you love it," he cooed.

"_You _love Double-Stuf Oreos. Don't mean you go gobbling 'em all the time. After all," he smirked, "You have a physique to maintain."

Kurt raised a brow, wholly unimpressed. Without warning, he canted his hips upwards to tip Puck off of his lap, using gravity to roll them so he was pinning Puck to the bed. "This _physique _is what keeps you in line, bitch."

Puck blinked owlishly up at Kurt, his heart racing. "I hate it when you do that," he gasped.

"_Some_one begs to differ," Kurt purred with a leer, tugging on Puck's rock-hard dick for emphasis.

Kurt was easily persuaded out of his clothes, but the jerk deemed it necessary to scissor Puck open with his fingers. He cursed and growled at the immensely amused man pinning him down to the bed. "One can never be too prepared," he said innocently.

"Kurt-" Puck snarled, using his hands after remembering the cuffs were gone to try and wrench the man's hand out of him. Kurt _tsk_ed and simply knocked Puck out of the way. "Fuck me-I swear to God I'll _make _myself come if-"

Kurt purposefully rubbed against Puck's prostate while simultaneously gripping the base of Noah's twitching dick. "Oh, you'll do no such thing," he murmured casually with a shit-eating grin. "Unless you _wanted_ to be cuffed up again? We have that dinner date later on, I don't think you want to spend your birthday tied to the radiator while our friends and I enjoy your favorite steakhouse without you."

Puck moaned-first at the thought of missing out on that mouth-watering steak, and then at being cuffed again. "Kurt, _please,_" he ground out.

"What, Noah?" Kurt asked, adding a third finger as he watched Puck's scrunched-up face. "Don't you want my dick inside of you? I thought you _liked_ my dick," he said with an audible pout.

"_Give it to me!_" Puck snarled, bucking up in an effort to dislodge Kurt's fingers. "Fucking fuck me already!"

Kurt smirked, grinding himself into Puck's bent leg as he leaned forward to lick and nip at the underside of Puck's jaw. "I don't know… I think you're _too_ loose. Maybe I should wait," he mused aloud, choking on his laughter when Puck lightly kneed him in his groin.

He went to say something witty, but then Kurt's fingertips teased his prostate once more. "_Fuckfuck-KURT!_"

He couldn't see Kurt's expression with his eyes screwed shut, but Puck could only imagine what he'd find if he looked. "It's all about the teasing, hun," Kurt retorted as he let his fingers slip out of Puck with a lewdly wet noise.

Puck willed his eyes open just in time to see Kurt prepping himself, framed by Puck's shamelessly spread legs. Kurt was biting at his lip, running a lubed hand up and down his cock and never taking his eyes off of Puck's profile. He rose both his eyebrows when Kurt smiled at him, smirking back when the other man allowed himself to be tugged forward.

They exchanged a few open-mouthed kisses as Puck replaced Kurt's hand with his own. He pressed the head of Kurt's dick against his hole, keeping his eyes open for as long as he could as Kurt pushed into Puck with little fanfare. He moaned his way through a drawn-out "_Yes_" as Kurt went further and further, each and every inch of him burning a warm, delicious stretch inside of Puck.

The moment Kurt was in as far as he could, their sweat-damp pelvises pressed together… it was pure, roll-your-eyes-back-and-moan bliss. As brilliant as it was, Puck was antsy for it to get better.

He hissed when Kurt wouldn't fucking _go_, jerking his hips around to get his message across. Kurt made a noise that sounded like he was choking on his tongue. Kurt held his hips down, taking in a few bracing breaths before he pulled back for a shallow thrust.

With each thrust in, Puck slid up on the bed until he found himself buried beneath a mountain's worth of throw pillows. Kurt laughed at Noah's spitting and cursing and helped to unbury him. Puck got a kiss for his troubles, and when Kurt stabbed in once more, hitting his prostate, Puck couldn't find it in himself to hold a grudge.

"_Shit,_" Puck shouted, his hands flying up to grip at Kurt's tense shoulders. He felt warmth beginning to pool in his groin, and he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth in anticipation.

Kurt began to stroke him in time with his movements, twisting the head of Puck's dick whenever he bottomed out and hit that sweet spot. Puck knew he was seconds from coming. He shook his head from side to side, making embarrassingly high-pitched noises in the back of his throat as his stomach flipped and tickled. His nerves felt like lit dynamite, and his toes clenched so hard he was waiting for them to cramp up-

He shouted when Kurt gripped at his dick once more, staving off his orgasm. "_Kurt…!_" He shot the man a baleful glare, his voice coming out as a petulant whine. "You _bastard_-"

Kurt continued to recklessly pound into him, never loosening his hold on Puck's dick. Noah slammed his head back into the mattress. He was _there_, he was _so there_, but Kurt was stopping him, and God, why would he _do that?_

"I know, I know," Kurt murmured as Puck continued to angrily snarl in-between half-hearted pleas. Kurt could feel the beginnings of an orgasm licking at his body, tickling and taunting him. "Wanna come-" he jerked forward, "-_with you_."

Puck nodded jerkily. "C'mon, Kurt," he begged brokenly, shivering beneath him. He slammed his fist into the mattress, an unsatisfying punch that did nothing to release his frustration. "Come _on…!_"

Kurt let his hand go back to stroking Puck's dick as his vision began to tunnel. "Yeah, baby… fuck, _come-!_"

Kurt screeched his release, thrusting his hips forward as Puck shouted and writhed beneath him, his come shooting hot and wet all over their stomachs. He held Puck down to the bed as his come was practically milked out of him.

Puck arched up as much as Kurt's hold would allow, moaning in exhaustion and twitching from aftershocks as Kurt gave a few more weak thrusts. "Kurt," he choked out, "'S enough."

Kurt relented with a soft kiss as he carefully pulled out in one fluid movement. Puck gasped when his lower body was unceremoniously lifted up. He growled in warning when Kurt bent his legs against Puck's own chest, cutting off into an indignant yelp when the back of his thigh was slapped. "Hey!"

Kurt offered him a cheeky grin before glancing down at Puck's exposed ass. If he had it in him, Noah would blush. As it was, his blood cells were still trying to drunkenly navigate their way back to his brain. He watched the crown of Kurt's head disappear, and a moment later he felt a tongue trace along the crack of his tender backside. He choked on his moan when Kurt lifted him further so he could lick up some of the spunk that dripped from his spent hole.

"Love you," Kurt said as he carefully arranged them beneath the covers, after cleaning them both up with conveniently stashed Wet Wipes. He kissed Puck languidly now, and he reveled in their taste on Kurt's tongue-not magically delicious, but it still left him in awe, to taste them together.

He smiled as he cradled Kurt against his chest, their curves melding together. "Yeah, love ya too, babe," Puck murmured, kissing the back of Kurt's neck. "Now go to sleep, for fuck's sake."

Kurt complied, smiling as he rested his hands on top of Noah's where they were wrapped around his hips. Even the anticipation of Puck's birthday surprise wasn't enough to keep his eyes open.

If _you_ knew how taxing making love to Noah was, you wouldn't be so quick to judge. Too bad no one would ever know. "Like, ever," Kurt murmured to no one as he drifted off. Puck grunted in his sleep and just tugged Kurt closer as the mixed smells of sex and flowers danced around them like the flickering of the candlelight.


	5. It's All About the Teasing, Epilogue

**It's All About the Teasing**

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_Finally._ I was in a bit of a rush to close this story up, so this chapter's shorter than the others. I wanted to finish Teasing!fic, so I can move onto my _reel_glee_ prompts-one of which was inspired by a Puck/Kurt drunken marriage prompt in the Fic Meme. Here's to hoping school won't get in the way. xD

I just want to make it clear that I have absolutely no knowledge about cars. Not a thing. I have my friend Sara (_eyesarmslove_) to thank for the car suggestion, and I apologize for any errors you might find regarding the car.

ALSO: I want to say a HUUUUGE thanks to everyone who voted for me in the _glee_fic_awards_! Getting awards for my own stories... it's kind of surreal, and I have you all to thank for this experience. (: Keep rockin' on, you guys!

As usual, enjoy!

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"So what d'you wanna do now?" Puck asked. They were nestled together in bed, the lights switched on since the candles had long since burnt out. A surprise thunderstorm was raging outside, and nestled under the covers with Kurt made everything feel warm and intimate.

They dozed on and off for most of the afternoon, and when they finally resurfaced to grab something from the kitchen for lunch, they trudged out in a giggling cocoon of bedsheets. Kurt kept walking too quickly and almost made them trip twice, but it was kinda nice seeing his partner so immature and carefree for once.

Kurt helped him straighten up when bending over to pick up the broken mug proved to be too straining on Puck's muscles. He shoved Kurt when the man snickered for too long at his awkward postures, and got a more-than-thorough makeout for his troubles.

Kurt gave the okay to eat their grilled cheese in bed-something _unheard _of. (Hell, he doubted Burt would believe it.) While he still felt a bit sour over being tied up for hours, all in all, his birthday seemed to be pretty great. Kurt even had those goldfish crackers to put in their tomato soup-you couldn't get any better than that.

Of course, when it came to Kurt you should always expect some fanfare. Kurt shot him a cute little grin as he helped Noah put his presents off to the side-a subscription to _Bon Appétit_, his favorite cologne and aftershave, and a kitschy stuffed Dalmatian holding an "I ruff you!" plush heart in its mouth-and leaned over to find something on the floor. Puck pinched Kurt's bare ass, snickering when the man fell off the bed with an indignant _humph!_.

He leaned over to smirk down at Kurt, only to burst out laughing at the ridiculous sight. "Just see if I give you your present now," Kurt pouted, arms folded over his naked chest. A wad of wrapping paper clung to his hair so Puck helped by tugging it out, ignoring Kurt's yelp when the tape stubbornly stuck to some of the brunet locks. "_Easy!_"

"So what else _is_ there?" Puck prompted. Not that he was ungrateful-and he wasn't, because Kurt was always spoiling Puck with pretty things and sappy dinner dates-but he'd expected a bit more present-wise, especially since he was three fucking decades old now.

"Well…" Kurt laughed and rolled out of the way when Puck went to thwack him over the head. "I guess I've lead you on enough for one day."

"In more ways than one," Puck muttered. Kurt shot him a blank look, so he hastily repeated, "It made my birthday fun."

"I'm sure." Kurt looked less than convinced, but he was smiling nonetheless. "So I guess I should give you your present now, to give you time to dry-hump and spit-shine it before dinner."

"Did you get me a blowup doll?" Noah quipped, yelping when a pair of jeans flew at his head. "Bitch."

"Let's go, let's go, let's _go!_" Kurt snapped, hopping on the balls of his feet while Puck scrabbled with his fly.

"Why are _you_ so excited?" He asked. Kurt shot him a thousand-watt grin that did funny things to his stomach, and he let the other man push Puck's numb fingers away to do the zipper up himself.

"I've been waiting to give you this for a _long _time," Kurt confided.

He was forced into a dirty t-shirt and his favorite pair of slip-ons, and then Kurt was shoving him out the door. He laughed, excited and confused when his eyes were covered. "How far?" Puck asked as Kurt led him to wherever he had in mind.

"Just a little further…" Kurt murmured into his ear, and a few minutes later Puck was stopped. Kurt turned him around and moved his hands off of Puck's face. They were so close their noses were touching, and Noah had to sort of cross his eyes to see Kurt clearly. He smiled when Kurt pecked him on the lips, his eyes sliding shut as Kurt did that tongue thing…

Only to find himself blinking when the mouth was gone and something had been slipped into his hand. He frowned at Kurt, and when the other man impatiently nodded to his hand, Noah relented and opened his fist.

He stared. "…Oh my _God,_ no you didn't."

Kurt gave him a squeal of excitement. "Oh, but I _did!_" He moved so Puck could see behind him, and giggled when Puck's jaw fell open. He jostled the man when he stayed frozen for a solid amount of time. "Puck, come _on_, come look at it!"

Kurt tugged Noah's lax hand into his own and walked up to the shiny Corvette. "A sixty-six, just like you always wanted," Kurt said, mainly just to fill in the silence as Puck gaped at his new car. "My dad snatched one for me for a decent price, and fixed her up."

"And… she's _mine?_" Puck choked out, letting a shaky hand hover over the rich red door.

"One hundred percent yours," Kurt nodded. "You never mentioned the color, so I picked the one that would most compliment my skin tone. It's not Nancy Regan red, but it's a close match," he said, running a finger over her curves.

"She's _perfect_," Puck breathed. He finally worked up the nerve to pop the driver-side door open, taking in the dash and running a reverent hand along the steering wheel.

Kurt rolled his eyes, a fond smile tugging at his lips when Noah spent a good five minutes accustoming himself to his new car. "Well?" He asked eagerly. "You wanna take her for a spin or what?"

"Um, _duh_."

Puck turned to him with a wide grin as the engine purred to life, kissing Kurt's lips in-between whoops and hollers of sheer, unadulterated joy. "I _love_ you," he cried. They both laughed as Puck ripped out of the empty lot.

**

* * *

Epilogue?

* * *

**

"Dude."

Puck grinned smugly. "I know."

"Just… _dude._" James, one of his graveyard shift compadres, looked ready to piss himself in the face of Puck's new love affair. "He got you a _Corvette?_"

"Not _just _a Corvette, man. A _sixty-six Sting Ray_," Puck nodded eagerly.

"You lucky fucker." James whistled in appreciation as he circled Puck's car. "How's she ride?"

"Like a fucking _dream_," Puck all but moaned.

James had a glint in his eye that didn't sit well with Puck. At all. "So can I-"

"Don't even _think _about it."

"Oh, come on!"

"No," Puck said firmly.

James pouted and shoulder-checked Puck. "You're no fun."

"What can I say, I'm a committed man now," Puck murmured, running a fond hand along her taillights, admiring how the streetlights made her gleam. He glanced up to see James looking like he was about to cry, and sighed. "Fine. After our shift, you wanna take her for a spin?"

"I drive?" James said excitedly.

"_Hell_ no," Puck cried. "Consider yourself privileged enough to have shotgun in my baby. So far, Kurt's been the only one to ride with me."

James grinned lewdly. "Ride _with_ you, or…?" He snickered and dodged Puck's leg, outright giggling when Puck pulled a sore muscle. "Looks like _you_ did all the riding," He snorted.

"Shut up," Puck whined.

They took some more time to admire her, all sleek and mouth-wateringly sinful in the dark of the night. They shared a collective sigh when their walky-talkies went off in a jabber of voices and static.

"I can't _wait_," James said.

They both blew her a kiss before walking out of the rented garage, and Noah locked everything up (double- and triple-checking, of course), patting the steel door in farewell as they went to go catch another sad little shoplifting motherfucker. God, sometimes he _hated_ his job…


End file.
